


Multekrem

by Pearly_Pornography



Series: Pearly's Preklok Fics [6]
Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Abuse, Eating Disorders, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Self-Harm, Sexual Fantasy, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 23:38:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9043034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearly_Pornography/pseuds/Pearly_Pornography
Summary: "And this is Murderface. William Murderface. He's, uh... not in the best mood as of late."





	

"You agreed to have me kicked out of the band, didn't you."

"I mean, it wasch a majority rulesch schituation, I didn't--"

"Don't lie to me."

Murderface lowered his head, tugging at his sleeve.

"I might've... y'know, for your schake."

Magnus scowled, spitting onto his forehead.

"Piece of shit. Do you know what you've done?!"

"I juscht, you- you know, if--"

Then came the strike. A smack so loud Nathan ran in, terrified something had gone wrong. And truth be told, something had. As Murderface laid on the ground, the burning handprint in his cheek refusing to disappear, that was the day he decided to never trust anyone. To never fall in love with anyone.

To never need anyone.

-

That was, of course, mere weeks ago. And there Murderface sat, in his room, fiddling with his knife. He didn't want a new guitarist. He'd made that abundantly clear. But they got one anyway, a certain Toki Wartooth from Norway. He refused to make conversation. Not once, not now, not ever.

"And this is where Murderface sleeps-- Oh, shit, I didn't realize you were in here."

Murderface squinted at Nathan, who was with the newcomer in his bedroom doorway.

"My legsch are broken, where the fuck elsche would I be."

"You's legs ams bad?" Toki whined, immediately running over. "You's okay? You wants anythin's?" Immediately, Murderface backed up.

"Go away."

"Oh. Alrights. Well, haves a good day."

And thus, Toki was escorted out. That was the first time Murderface really had a meaningful conversation with him. (Though whether it qualified as 'meaningful' was, frankly, debatable.) But he refused, he vehemently REFUSED to befriend Toki Wartooth.

Though it was hard, since they worked together. 

"You's likin's dat?"

Murderface quietly stabbed the weird cream with his fork. Toki was beaming. "It ams multekrem. Cloudsberries with whips creams."

"I shouldn't." Toki blinked, in confusion. "I shoudn't eat thisch, I mean."

"What? Yes you shoulds. You's all skinnies, winter ams comin's and you'll get colds."

"Isch fine."

"No it amn't's."

"Go away!"

His cheeks burned, and he stormed away in his splints. "I don't want your schtupid gay food, you fucking piesche-of-shit Norwegian houschewife!" The door to his bedroom slammed shut, and he didn't come out for the rest of the day. Or the next day. Really until he was called out for practice.

That's just how things were.

And Toki was patient, almost too much so.

Murderface knew what he was getting at. They were all the same.

He woke up at 3 in the morning after seeing something he didn't want to. His eyes bleary and twitchy. He shifted his leg, feeling something sticky on the inside of his boxer shorts. Oh god, oh fuck, what had he done. The dream he was clinging onto slowly sifted through his fingers like sand, as he tried desperately to remember what caused this. His toes curled, and he rubbed his sweaty brow. Who was it... a person, with sorta long, brown hair...

He hissed, shoving his head under his pillow.

"No, no, no."

He slipped out of his sticky underwear, feeling the discharge scrape against his leg. His toes wiggled a little, the memories flooding into his head. Toki was on him, his legs were pulled back and Toki was fucking him raw like a back-alley whore, staring into his eyes and smirking. So uncharacteristic. So weird.

"Schtop."

He mumbled into the blankets, tears rolling over his face. He had a boner and he wanted to fucking kill himself. His hand found its way around his dick, still half-hard and warm. He didn't want to.

The Lord would never forgive him. 

(Toki whispered in his ear, 'comes for me', and Murderface couldn't hold back.)

The fluid stuck to his sheets, and he cried. He grabbed for his knife, feeling the self-hatred boil in his body as he kept going. He couldn't help it. He sobbed and whimpered and cried out in the burning pain within his heart. With one hand, he stabbed his leg. With the other, he rubbed himself off.

He felt gross.

And dirty.

He wanted a shower. He wanted to shower in knives, and allow them to peel all his skin off and clear his sins away. He wanted a shower. He wanted to be cleaned and forgiven and he wanted to forget about this.

("I care about you." Magnus said. "So, so much."

And Murderface was stupid. And he believed it.)

"Don't schay that shit to me."

The knife wound tighter in his skin. Because he knew Toki was lying to him. He was being toyed with and messed with, probably laughed at by everyone else. Looked down on, destroyed, walked all over and forgotten with the endless sands of time. And he wanted to wash away the taste with a bottle of Bombay Sapphire, forget himself in the universe's endless pool and disappear.

He wouldn't get close.

His fingers flicked over the head of his dick, teeth digging into his lip. He wouldn't ever, ever get close.

He'd watch from a distance.

("Do you know what you've done?")

He didn't want to get hurt again.


End file.
